Respite
by Theodore Barrington
Summary: A one-shot (most likely.) I've always liked scenes in the movies where the characters are sleeping or resting, and everything is calm just before all hell breaks loose, so I decided to have a go at writing one myself. Don't know why I chose TF2 specifically, but there you go.


Respite

They'd been lucky to find the shack; for the first time in a week, the RED team were able to sleep somewhere other than the Sniper's cramped camper van. Settled halfway up the side of a canyon at the end of a hidden road, the room was small, but big enough to comfortably accommodate the five men. There were no beds, but they were used to roughing it.

The Heavy lay on the floor, his bulky frame blocking the only door to intruders.  
>Having won the coin toss, the Engineer reclined in the only hammock available on the other side of the room, while the Medic commandeered the high-backed leather chair.<br>The first rays of morning light crept through the boarded up window, dancing along the Scout's face as he lay wrapped in his sleeping bag  
>Opposite the window, the Sniper perched atop a crate, resting with his legs crossed, back to the wall and Akubra slouched over his eyes as he had done many times in the past.<p>

Other than light snoring from the Heavy, the only sound was the occasional beep and whir of the Sentries outside, which had become strangely comforting to the team. A level three Sentry, affectionately known as "Big Boy" stood with its rocket launchers aimed down at the cannon while "Short Stuff" - a Combat Mini Sentry- stood outside the door, scanning the road for hostiles. Tactically, the shack was well placed; the altitude gave them a good advantage over their pursuers.

Seven days ago, it was business as usual at the Dust Bowl, the REDS and the BLUS had been duking it out as they always did. After yet another day of getting nowhere fast, both factions were ready to punch out for the evening, when a trio of unmarked trucks pulled up and a platoon of black-clad soldiers spilled out and open fire with their automatic weapons.

The entire BLU crew was taken out immediately, falling to the ground with dozens of tiny darts sticking out of them. A contingent of the troops hauled the unconscious forms over and into the trucks, while the rest fanned out, searching for the RED team, but they no longer had the element of surprise. Under the instruction of the Medic, the Heavy, Big Boy and Short Stuff provided a layer of cover fire as they fell back. Four of the team made it to the Sniper's RV then drove back to pick up the Russian and the Sentries. The Pyro, the Demoman and the Soldier weren't as fortunate, copping a phalanx of darts to the neck, leg and hindquarters respectively.

Nobody saw what happened to the Spy.

For the next seven days, they travelled across the country almost non-stop. Even without a concrete plan and very limited funds, they had managed to stay well ahead of the soldiers, but their luck was about to run out.

It was Big Boy who alerted the REDS with an opening volley of gunfire.

The Sniper's was awake in an instant, tipping his hat back, jumping from the crate and picking up his rifle in one fluid motion. The Scout was already rolling out of the way as the Australian moved over to the window and peered through the gap between the boards with the scope of his rifle.

"There's a whole bloody battalion of the blighters," he reported, as the others shook off the remnants of sleep and prepared their weapons. "Got a few APC's too!"

"Scheisse," cursed the Medic, as he primed his Medi-Gun. "Listen to zat!"

The REDS strained their ears, trying to pick up the sound in question. Over the shouting and gunfire in the canyon, they heard steady thrum of helicopter blades.

"We are _so_ boned!" exclaimed the Scout.

"Can your Sentries take out choppers?" the Sniper asked the Engineer.

"Big Boy could handle a few, but his rocket supply is limited," said the Engineer. "By the sounds of it, there's about five of them inbound."

"Ve have no choice, ve must leave _now!_" said the Medic. "Scout, get ze RV started, Sniper, get on ze roof and provide support. Engineer, make sure your Sentries prioritise ze helicopters unt armoured vehicles."

"But how are we gonna get passed those guys?" asked the Scout. "They've got both ends of the canyon blocked off."

The Medic gave a lopsided grin.

"Leave zat to ze Heavy and I," he said. "Come mine robust Russian friend, let us go practice some medicine." After exchanging brief, stoic handshakes, the team split and went into action. The Medic and the Heavy charged down the footpath, giving a bloodcurdling battle cry as they ran.

The Sniper climbed onto the roof and unslung his rifle. He inhaled sharply, taking aim at the external fuel tank of an approaching APC, then exhaled, squeezing the trigger.

*BLAM*

The custom-made, incendiary rounds the Engineer had given him punched right through the tank, igniting the diesel inside.

***BOOM!***

The APC exploded in a ball of fire, taking out the surrounding troops. The Sniper ducked back over the other side of the roof to avoid the return fire. Two black helicopters closed in on the house, and the Engineer directed Big Boy's sights to the aircraft.

*choom choom*

***KA-BOOM!***

Down went the first chopper…

*choom choom*

***KA-BOOM!***

…as did the second helicopter, which smashed into the other side of the canyon, showering the troops below with fiery debris.

Satisfied, the Engineer, turned the Sentry back down on the foot soldiers and went to grab Short Stuff.

***BOOM***

The sniper took out a second APC.

Meanwhile, the Scout sprinted to the camper van and climbed into the driver's seat. Finding the key behind the sun visor, he jammed it into the ignition and turned the key. The engine roared to life on the first try.

"Ok, let's go, let's go!" he yelled over the din.

The Sniper took one last shot, taking out a soldier hefting an RPG, slid off the roof and ran to help the Engineer pack the Sentries into the RV. All packed up, they piled into the back, and the Scout threw the camper van into gear and they tore off down the path.

Meanwhile, the Heavy ran towards the troops on the ground. His skin took on a brilliant red sheen and his eyes glowed a burning yellow, the tell-tale signs of a fully Ubercharged man. Sasha buzzed, spitting out a hailstorm of lead as the oversized Russian moved. The troopers were perforated, but rather than a mist of blood and gore, sparks and machine parts flew instead. The revelation that their enemy were in fact androids was completely lost on the Heavy, who was more interested in cutting down every black-clad figure in sight. Although the troops tried to return fire, their non-lethal rounds were ineffectual against the gargantuan figure. Unfortunately, a stray dart ricocheted off the Heavy and buried itself in the Medic's shoulder. The drug took effect immediately, causing the doctor to drop his Medi Gun and collapse the moment it hit the gun. The Ubercharge faded, just as the powerful minigun ran dry.

"Oh no," groaned the Heavy before being peppered with darts. It took two score of the little projectiles with enough tranquiliser to fell a leviathan before the angry Russian finally succumbed. The surrounding androids approached cautiously, in case he was playing possum, but a ginger prod with a gun barrel confirmed his unconsciousness. If the androids were physically capable of sighing with relief, they would have done so. They looked up, only to see the camper van barrelling towards them, swerving at the last second. The Sniper fired his SMG out the window with one hand, while holding on for dear life with the other, as the RV careened wildly across the canyon floor, the Engineer doing the same in the back. Even the Scout couldn't resist leaning out of the window to bash in the head of a hapless android with his trusty baseball bat. Tranquiliser darts pinged uselessly off the back of the fleeing vehicle, as the last three members of RED team still standing, powered out of the canyon and down the road, into the sunset.


End file.
